


God knows we like archaic kinds of fun

by themazeballet



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 10:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8663854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themazeballet/pseuds/themazeballet
Summary: A small character study: the king, his brother and his brother's lover. Title from 'Glory and Gore' by Lorde. Happy Christmas!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mimm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimm/gifts).



Bontemps was quiet as he hoisted the lamp ahead of him. His Majesty followed behind, wrapped in an ermine and green velvet dressing gown with matching slippers. It was a quiet walk down the private, hidden walkway that smelled musty and moulded.

"It's quite stifling," his Majesty said, sighing. "Unacceptably so."

"It is for the servants," Bontemps said. "We cannot open these for regular airing."

His Majesty said nothing. Bontemps could hear his heels tapping behind him. They stopped in front of a door and Bontemps unlatched the simple wooden latch, pushing out the panel. He bowed to his King as he passed, and followed him, shutting the panel behind him and dousing the lamp.

Philippe’s apartments in Versailles were possibly even more sumptuous than Louis’ own: it was stuffed to the brim with paintings from Louis’ court painters, and much of Philippe’s dresses were draped over settees, chaises longues and really, any available seating.

Philippe himself was sitting up in bed, arms folded demurely over his lap, in an astounding number of frills and lace. Bontemps removed Louis’ dressing gown and Louis climbed into bed with his brother, shoving him unceremoniously over. Philippe’s demure demeanour broke almost instantly, and he smacked Louis across the arm.

“I find myself unable to sleep,” Louis said simply, and Philippe sighed. “And it is obvious that you weren’t sleeping, so no big loss.”

“I was attending Chevalier,” Philippe replied. “And you are not he.”

“That is true. I’m sure he will not mind my visit. No one should mind my visit.”

“And yet.” Philippe cuddled against him. “Why are you unable to sleep?”

Louis slid his fingers into Philippe’s hair, wrapping a curl around his fingers. “I am thinking of Versailles, of course,” he murmured. “I am thinking of Versailles and its future. I am thinking of consolidating all my power under this roof and forsaking Paris. And I am thinking of the traitors under this very roof, ones that would deny the right of the King.”

Philippe listened to Louis’ words, but mostly he felt Louis’ heartbeat. His brother, le Grand, le Soleil. God’s most favoured child. He remembered with startling clarity his mother’s voice, telling him that Louis was a divine gift, a miracle. Louis’ breath hitched, and Philippe was startled out of reverie. He put his chin on Louis’s left breast, and looked at his chin. “Kill them,” he said simply. “Kill them and burn their homes.”

“I need their resources, and I am not a monster.”

Philippe sat up, pulling his hair from Louis’ fingers. “Then you must deal with the overwhelming bitterness towards you.” He sighed. “It is difficult, being heir to what must be the most successful kingdom since the Roman one.” He kissed his brother’s forehead. “Bontemps, would you light all the candles? I want my brother to see all the new artworks.”

“You know, I am the official patron of the arts,” Louis said, with no heat in his words. Bontemps began lighting the hundreds of candles in Philippe’s room. Philippe stood up, his bare feet patting the cold marble floor as he retrieved Louis’ dressing gown and slippers. He knelt to slip Louis’ feet into the slippers, kissing the tops of both as he did. He slid Louis’ dressing gown about his shoulders.

“From whence this affection, brother?” Louis asked as they began their tour around the room.

“I had a memory of mother,” Philippe said, linking his arm through Louis’ as they walked. Louis stopped at each painting, observing them. Philippe, having seen each painting, watched Louis instead. As Bontemps lit more candles, shadows were chased away, and Philippe saw more and more of his brother. He was slim and handsome, with an upper lip pout and clear blue eyes that captured all the light in the room. Philippe was a beautiful man, that was true, but he understood most days why Louis was called _Le Roi Soleil_. Louis was dazzling. 

Louis stopped in front of a painting, gazing at it. In front of him stood a small canvas, hidden by enormous framed works of battles and Biblical scenes. There was a solitary man, his chest unclothed, gazing at the heavens in supplication, holding a cross in his left hand, his right hand open. A sheep stood in front of him, a bowl behind, and his legs draped in red and white cloth.

“St John the Baptist,” Philippe said softly.

“It is almost vulgar,” Louis said. “But his face…it is beautiful, brother. Why is it hiding here?”

“I’m not sure,” Philippe answered. “It is a very old piece, not new. I found it in the Louvre, and wanted it here with me. It wasn’t even framed.” He put his hand on Louis’ back. “What do you think of my collection?”

Louis looked around. “It is marvellous. It shouldn’t be hiding in your apartments. May I begin filling my galleries with this.”

Philippe sighed. “I will have the last word over what leaves my apartments,” he said finally, never able to directly tell his brother no, for any reason. “But you may. But you are not taking St John; he is my protector.”

The doors to Philippe’s apartment in, and Chevalier came sauntering in, his voice booming. He stopped when he came through to the inner rooms, staring around. “Afraid of the dark, are we?” He bowed low when he saw Louis. “Your Majesty.”

“I wanted to show Louis my collection,” Philippe said, running over and greeting Chevalier with a deep, slow kiss as Louis watched. Philippe knew that his outrageous sodomite behaviour enraged Louis, but he didn’t really care. Philippe helped Chevalier out of his waistcoat, and looked back at Louis. “Are you staying brother?”

Louis looked around, and sat on a settee. “I don’t see why not. The bed is big enough for all three. The Chevalier won’t mind, will he?”

“He will not,” Chevalier said, a small frown crossing his face. “I’ve been known to share.” Philippe finished undressing him, still as Louis watched.

“Were you always a sodomite?” Louis asked as Philippe helped Chevalier into his nightgown.

“I believe so, your Majesty,” Chevalier answered cheerfully. He winked at him. “And one never knows, you may enjoy a bit of sodomy yourself.”

Louis chuckled, getting up and climbing into Philippe’s bed. “Tempting as that offer is, my plate is currently full.” Philippe slid in next to Louis, and Chevalier came in right behind him. 

Bontemps sighed, picking up a long-handled candle damper, moving to each candle. “Good night, your Majesty, your Highnesses.”

“Good night, Bontemps,” Louis said, shifting and putting his hand over Philippe's hip just as Chevalier did. They looked at each other, and then linked fingers. Louis closed his eyes and smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Songs listened to:  
> glory and gore - lorde  
> children of the sun - fire in the hamptons  
> paris is burning - ladyhawke


End file.
